knight's Royal Duty || Gonkillu ||

Sorry

Later that night, Killua sat in his chambers, his mind racing. The more he thought about the war, the more desperate he became. He couldn't just sit here and wait for news. He couldn't sit idly by while Gon fought on the front lines, risking his life in a war neither of them believed in.

There had to be something he could do.

Without thinking, Killua stood up, pacing the room. His thoughts were a chaotic swirl of fear, anger, and frustration. He needed to act, to do something—anything—to protect Gon.

Suddenly, a reckless idea formed in his mind.

What if I go to the front?

The thought was insane. He knew it. But the longer he thought about it, the more it made sense. He couldn't stay in the palace, pretending everything was fine while Gon fought and bled for a war they were both trapped in. If he went to the front, he could find Gon, see for himself if he was okay. Maybe even help him.

It was dangerous—more dangerous than anything Killua had ever done. But the alternative—waiting in silence, helpless—was unbearable.

Killua knew his father and the queen would never allow him to leave the palace. They would keep him locked away, playing the role of the obedient prince while the kingdom tore itself apart. But Killua wasn't going to play their game anymore.

He was going to the battlefield, no matter the cost.

It took Killua three days to make his escape from the palace. Three days of careful planning, sneaking supplies, and gathering information about the war's front lines. He knew he couldn't leave openly—if the queen or his father discovered what he was planning, they would lock him away for good. So, he moved in secret, using the hidden passages and tunnels beneath the palace to make his way to the outskirts of the city.

By the time he finally slipped out of the capital under the cover of darkness, Killua's heart was pounding with a mixture of fear and determination. He had no idea what waited for him at the front. He had no idea if he would even make it to Gon in time. But he had to try.

The journey was long and difficult. The roads were filled with soldiers, refugees, and traders—all of them heading in different directions as the war tore through the land. Killua kept his hood pulled low over his face, avoiding attention as best he could. He didn't want to risk being recognized by any of the soldiers loyal to his mother.

As he traveled, the reality of the war became clearer. Villages had been destroyed, crops burned, and the air was thick with the smell of smoke and death. It was worse than he had imagined. The war wasn't just a distant conflict—it was ripping the kingdom apart, and Killua could feel the weight of it pressing down on him with every step he took.

But he kept moving. He had to find Gon.

After days of traveling, Killua finally reached the eastern front. The sight that greeted him was nothing short of devastating. The land was scorched, the remains of once-thriving villages now reduced to rubble. The sky was a permanent gray, filled with smoke from the constant clashes between the two armies.

Killua's heart raced as he made his way through the war-torn landscape, his mind focused solely on finding Gon. He had no idea where to start, but he couldn't stop now. He had come too far.

As he moved through the chaos of the battlefield, dodging soldiers and avoiding the conflict zones, he overheard snippets of conversations from the soldiers. They spoke of fierce battles, of knights falling in the midst of combat, and of a commander leading a group of knights in a desperate attempt to hold the eastern line.

A commander.

Gon.

Killua's chest tightened, and he quickened his pace, his feet carrying him toward the heart of the conflict. He had to find Gon. He had to know that he was okay.

But as he neared the front lines, the reality of war hit him with full force. The sound of clashing swords, the screams of the wounded, the smell of blood and fire—it was overwhelming. Killua had been in battles before, but nothing like this. This was carnage on a scale he had never imagined.

And somewhere in the middle of it all was Gon.

Killua's heart pounded as he moved through the chaos of the battlefield, searching desperately for any sign of Gon. He pushed past soldiers, dodged falling debris, and scanned the faces of every knight he passed, his fear growing with every step.

And then, through the smoke and fire, he saw him.

Gon.

He was standing at the edge of a ridge, his sword drawn, shouting orders to the knights around him. His armor was covered in dirt and blood, his face hardened with determination. But he was alive.

Killua's breath caught in his throat, a wave of relief washing over him. For a moment, he couldn't move. He was frozen in place, staring at Gon, his heart pounding with both fear and overwhelming emotion.

But Gon wasn't looking at him. He was focused on the battle, his eyes scanning the horizon as he prepared to lead his knights into the fray.

Before Killua could call out to him, a group of enemy soldiers appeared on the ridge, charging toward Gon's unit with terrifying speed.

Killua's heart raced. Without thinking, he sprinted toward Gon, his voice finally breaking through the chaos.

"Gon!"

Gon's head snapped around at the sound of Killua's voice, his eyes widening in shock. For a brief moment, everything seemed to stop. The battle, the noise, the chaos—it all faded as Gon stared at Killua, his expression a mixture of disbelief and fear.

"Killua!" Gon shouted, his voice filled with both relief and panic. "What are you doing here?"

But before Killua could answer, the enemy soldiers were upon them.